


2 (One for Me, and One for You)

by consecrated



Category: Nabari no Ou
Genre: Boys In Love, Canon Disabled Character, Canon Intersex Character, Fluff and Angst, Gender Issues, Hurt/Comfort, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, M/M, Manga Spoilers, Volume 9 Centric
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-05-14
Updated: 2017-10-29
Packaged: 2018-10-31 18:35:10
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 6,349
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10905081
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/consecrated/pseuds/consecrated
Summary: Let us have good dreams, let us never reach Banten, let us stay like this forever, the two of us under a sunset that never reaches nighttime. You never say the things you need to say, and neither do I -- with what time we have left, why do we fill it with silence. Let us have good dreams. Let us stay like this forever.Two confused boys run for their lives, but still find time to make use of what little time they have together. Starts at chapter 47 of the manga.





	1. One Dream For Two Hearts

The sun was setting over the still silent countryside, cold air billowing in from the east with slight winds and gusts. Despite the gentle cold, Yoite felt warm. This was rare -- he always felt a chill deep inside him where the unlocked powers of the Kira technique slowly robbed him of his life, despite the heavy coats and sweaters he wore near constantly -- but that body at his side emanating heat and love kept him comfortable despite the rapidly approaching night.

Only once before had he sat through and watch a sunset from start to finish, a brisk bitter night atop the hill where the church stood in his birth town. He’d known the longer he stayed, the more severe his punishment when he returned to that hostile, cold home, but the warm light of the church and the beauty and grace of the gold and pink tones in the sky kept him rooted in place, watching the light paint pictures on the grass through the stained glass windows. He’d been ten at the time, it was getting easier to sneak outside now that his father was spending more and more time with his other young son. After he remarried, the Kōdō elder paid less attention to Sora -- Yoite’s whereabouts, locking him in the basement and rarely checking in to see if the child remained in his cold cage.

“Yoite?” _My name is Yoite. I am Yoite._

“Mm?”

“Are you ok?”

“Mmhm.”

The sunlight was dimming, the majority of the sky now a deep dark navy blue. Only a small strip above the horizon remained bright with brilliant pinks, purples, and yellows. The sun itself just barely peeked above the earth, dipping down slowly. Yoite’s eyes hurt from staring at it for so long, but it was hard to tear them away. With the horizon as a reference point, the movements of the sunset were visible and he could watch as the earth and sky moved and changed. _I am Yoite._

He felt something touch his hand, soft, careful. Miharu’s fingers were always so gentle, but never hesitant to intertwine with his. He felt himself smile, there was a time when the thought of holding someone’s hand would have terrified him. Touch was dangerous, being touched was dangerous, at least that’s what he used to think. Now, whenever Miharu’s hand found his, all he felt was safety and a sense of grounding. Being connected to Miharu was something to be grateful for, not to fear. It’d taken a long time to learn that, and even now it was difficult to battle the feelings of inadequacy and self loathing, but even though his body was growing weaker, he found more strength to fight those feelings and allow himself to feel happy with Miharu’s hand in his.

“Yoite?”

“Mm?”

“Are you cold?”

“No.”

Miharu shuffled slightly, shifting his body closer to his. The warmth grew, heat radiating off of the younger boy, and the warmth in Yoite’s chest grew.

“Are _you_ cold?” Yoite asked softly, glancing over. Miharu’s round face was peaceful and his lips were pulled in a content smile.

“No.”

Miharu moved closer anyway.

Another time they’d been holding hands, they’d been running for their lives, fingers interlaced in a death grip of terror and desperation. Yoite had thought if he let go for even one second, Miharu would be ripped away from him forever.

 

* * *

 

The rain was cold. Almost unbearable, soaking through the thick layers of his coat and sweater, seeping through to chill his already fragile and cold skin. Yoite felt like he may already be dead, if not for Miharu’s gentle hand guiding him through the rain towards the lights of the train station, other hand clinging to his arm.

Yoite didn’t want Miharu to ever let go.

With water running down his face, he blinked blearily as the rain caused his failing eyes yet more blindness, the station ahead was nothing more than blurry bokeh lights and a promise of safety.

“We’re almost there.” Miharu whispered soft assurances, his own body drenched and shivering as they waded their way through the world. “Almost there.”

The threat of the Kairōshū siblings on the trail left them both breathless and desperate, feeling a kind of fear they hadn’t experienced since Alya Academy.

Yoite wasn’t sure if he was even conscious anymore. His brain felt fuzzy, time was moving strangely. It was like being in a dream, a nightmare. With his illness, he knew he wouldn’t last long out here. Maybe the sheer coldness was making his brain turn off -- but one second the lights were mere sparkles in the darkness and the next he was standing in the entrance of the station blinking through the harsh lights, watching Miharu read a sign with text too small and fuzzy for his eyes to comprehend.

“How unfortunate! You’re going to catch a cold if you stay out there.” An older gentlemen said loudly.

The station was closed. They were trapped, trapped in the cold, the dark, _no._ Those siblings with sharp killing tools would be nipping on their heels soon, ready to end Yoite’s life and take Miharu away from him. _You can’t! You can’t! You can’t take him away from me!_ What would they do? This had been their lifeline, bright lights in the distance through the rain, and now they hand nothing. They were trapped. Yoite could feel his chest constrict, tight, tight, tight.

The gentlemen’s kind eyes softened, and became new lights in the distance.

“Come with me.” He murmured.

The stranger led them towards warmth, making promises of safety, talking amicably as they walked, trying to fill the silence with words and drown out the heavy rain.

“Are you siblings? Where are your parents?” He asked, glancing at their skinny, scared forms, “Have you phoned home?”

They remained silent, Yoite wondered if their haunted eyes brought the man to his next question: “Are you running away?”

Yoite’s first memory was of being five years old, cold, tired, with his older sister looming over him: _‘You should run away. No one wants you here, shinigami.’_ Her words were sharp, bitter, ‘ _You’re just a waste of space, eating our food, no one wants you here.’_ His small body descended the stairs into the depths of the basement while his sister mocked him from the top, her trill of a voice following him down into the darkness. When he was younger, he didn’t mind the basement at first, he was glad to be away from the large family and their piercing stares. The dark, the seclusion, for awhile it was a place of safety. The longer he stayed down there, however, the more it became a cage.

 _I don’t want to think. I don’t want to think about anything._ Yoite stared straight ahead, past the man, past the darkness, _I don’t want to think about anything at all._

His brain was going fuzzy again, exhaustion pulling at his feet. Miharu seemed to notice, hand once again finding his arm, leading _him_ as the stranger led _them_.

The apartment was certainly warm, and bright, hurting Yoite’s eyes when they first entered. The stranger retrieved a towel for them to ruffle through their hair, and made promises of a safe place to spend the night.

“I’ll draw the bath, so just get warm.” He said gently, “If we wash your clothes now, they’ll be dry by morning.”

Miharu began unbuttoning his shirt without hesitation, nimble fingers pulling at his clothes, but Yoite just edged closer to the heater and took solace in his partial deafness, pretending he was oblivious. Miharu looked at him questioningly, and said loudly, “If we wash our clothes now, they’ll be dry by morning.”

“Here, you take them off too.” The kind man handed him a folded shirt, but Yoite looked away.

“Yoite?”

“I’m fine like this.” He grunted, clinging to his layers of clothes like they were his only armor, and truthfully they were. The thought of shedding his armor here, so suddenly, in front of so many eyes…

“You shouldn’t, what if you get even sicker?” Miharu murmured.

There were some things the boy should never know of him, about who he was, who he used to be, his body, his mind -- it was in fact _because_ Miharu cared so much about him that he didn’t want those dirty, evil things to taint the way he saw him. Everything about Yoite was tainted already, like the bruises dappling his ashen hands, he refused to rub that dirt on Miharu.

“I don’t want to. I’ll be ok.” He whispered.

“What are you saying? C’mon.” The man frowned, reaching towards him, but Yoite quickly batted his hand away, flinching back.

“It’s embarrassing--” He blurted out without thinking, hands rising to his throat as though he could keep keep everything down if he could grip it tight enough.

“Oh, are you girl? Sorry.” The man sheepishly scratched his head, eyes wide.

It wasn’t the first time the mistake had been made, that someone saw his slender body, delicate face, long eyelashes, and saw the shadow of a girl. The pain that surged through his chest was always as sudden and horrific as it ever was -- watashi -- watashi -- boku -- ore --

“No--” He shouted, holding his tongue.

“Well…” The man turned away, rubbing his neck, “Do whatever you want.”

Yoite watched him leave, mostly just to avoid Miharu’s eyes. The boy’s gaze was burrowing deep into him, and Yoite already felt naked. He hugged himself tightly, flinching at Miharu’s touch for the first time in a long time when he reached out to him.

“Yoite, c’mon.” Miharu pulled at his sleeve, but instead of trying to make him shuck the article of clothing, he motioned for Yoite to stand, “Hang your gloves and boots up to dry.”

Yoite glanced at the clothes line strung up behind him, where Miharu’s shirt now hung. When he made no move to comply, the younger boy knelt and began unzipping Yoite’s boots, carefully pulling them off of his bruised feet. Yoite felt numb, like he wasn’t really there, just watching from the outside of his body. The cold, the vulnerability, the ache.

“It’s ok Yoite.” Miharu said calmly, a smiling up at him. It was a smile meant to comfort, but it only made him feel stupid for being so frozen by the cold of a basement he’d never see again.

When Miharu reached for his gloved hands, he pulled away and removed them himself, turning away to pin them up on the line. Without glancing back, he grabbed the folded shirt and retreated to the bathroom with Miharu’s eyes burning his back.

_‘Shinigami!’_

_Sora flinches back, his father looming so tall above him. The man is a skyscraper about to collapse, burying him in rubble -- there’s no escape._

_‘I’m sorry --’_

_‘Put it back in the basement.’ His older brother scoffs, ‘I hate looking at it.’_

_His father smiles, reaching down to grab at Sora’s collar, pulling him up off the floor, and to his feet. His large hand could strangle him easily, with just the one, big enough to wrap around his entire throat and crush his windpipe._

_‘Do you know what you are, Shinigami?’ His father whispers._

_They never call him by his name, and he’s grateful. If they pretend he isn’t real, it’s easier to go along with the fantasy._ I’m not a _he_ or a _she_ , I’m not even Sora.

 _But having been referred to as the death god already, he knew the answer would not be that._ What am I?  

_‘Do you know what you are? A freak. You never should have been born. You’re a monster.’_

And mother would still be alive.

Yoite stared at the mirror. He hated being naked, hated seeing his dappled, bruised flesh, the bones under his skin, the spaces and places where he should be and shouldn’t be.

He quickly pulled the shirt over himself and buttoned it up with shaking, stiff fingers. He could hear Miharu puttering about in the room, setting up the cot they’d be sleeping in. The thought of falling asleep in the same bed at his friend was a notion that both terrified and excited him. He wanted to be near to Miharu, always. However, closeness had it’s own dangers, and sleep had it’s own vulnerabilities. In the night, dreams of his family come and Miharu had already seen enough of him waking up with a cry on his lips.

Yoite exhaled slowly, breath fogging the surface of the glass, covering the rest of his wretched body where the clothing didn’t. The shirt didn’t have a very high collar, leaving the scar on his neck exposed. His hand rose to touch it, but thought better of it and turned away from the mirror.

The door was just a few feet away. He didn’t want Miharu to look at the ugly mark, it was bad enough he’d already seen it, knew it was there. It wasn’t fair to Miharu to have to see it. _‘It’s not fair!’ Miharu shouts, eyes anguished. The hospital room is so cold. Yoite presses his hand against his mutilated neck, watching the younger boy run away._

He coughed, chest squeezing tightly to push the blood out of his throat, his own body strangling him. Deeply he hacked and wheezed, then finally gagged and spit blood into the sink. He could feel a deep pain in his chest and gut, reminding him of how little time he had left.

Someone was knocking on the door, but his ears were ringing and the world was muffled so he couldn’t hear what the person was saying. Not for the first time, he feared this would be the moment his deafness became absolute and permanent.

The doorknob jiggled, and Miharu peered in, quickly coming to Yoite’s side, mouth forming words that never reached him. Yoite stared back at him, still holding his own mouth where blood trickled from between his fingers, hearing only the loud ringing. Everything was so muffled, like the world had become coated in cotton.

“I-- I can’t--” Yoite attempted to say, but was cut off by another coughing fit. Miharu held him as he choked, rubbing his back soothingly. He was still speaking, Yoite could see his lips moving, but too fast for him to read them.

Slowly, like draining water out of one’s ears, the world start to audibly flood back as the ringing reached a climax and cut off.

“I’m here, I’ve got you Yoite, it’s ok.” Miharu was saying, holding him close, voice vibrating in both of their bodies.

“Mi- ‘m ok.” Yoite rasped pulling away, “I’m fine.”

Miharu trailed behind him as he exited the bathroom, watching him intently. Yoite forced himself to walk carefully, as not to stumble and give his friend another reason to take care of him. He hated feeling burdensome, he’d never needed someone to take care of him as a child and he certainly didn’t need it now -- _but I do, don’t I --_ no, was he dying? Yes. Did he need to be taken care of? No.

His equilibrium was off, causing him to stagger. Miharu quickly caught up with him but he shook the younger boy off, skin burning at the kind touches. Yoite made his way to the bed and sat down heavily, staring at the heater, grateful for it’s warmth. Slight feeling was returning to his fingers, a rare sensation as his bruised hands rarely managed to feel much but aching numbness anymore.

“You don’t have to hide from me.” Miharu said quietly from where he still stood near the center of the room.

Yoite met his gaze, feeling his heart thud in his chest at the gentle slope of Miharu’s eyes. He didn’t know what to say, so he said nothing.

When the man returned, Miharu never looked away from Yoite. As the kind stranger spoke, Miharu only had eyes for him -- those eyes were speaking in ways that neither of them knew how to, all the words that got trapped behind promises and oaths, they were laid bare.

“The bath’s ready in the central washroom down the hall, whichever of you wants to go first.” The man informed them, glancing between the young boys, before taking his leave with a small nod.

Miharu finally closed his eyes and turned away, and didn’t look back even once before exiting the room.

 

* * *

 

Yoite declined the chance to take a bath, he’d had enough of his own body for the day and wasn’t eager to strip down once more. The heater had warmed him enough that he felt comfortable curling up in the cot, staring at the dust dancing in the light while Miharu sat drying his hair for the second time.

“We’ll have to leave early in the morning.” Miharu was saying, “He’ll probably call the police because we’re minors.”

“He seemed kind.” Yoite murmured, watching the dust motes float around the younger boy, disturbed by his motions.

“We can’t trust anyone, it’s too risky. The kairōshū will be after us in no time.”

Yoite nodded, curling tighter around himself. _‘Because you are a kind child.’ Hattori-san whispers, even though Yoite stood far away from him, he could almost feel his breath hot on his neck. His words are cheapened by his earlier praise of his intelligence… and his beauty._

“Are you tired?” Miharu asked quietly, setting down his towel.

“A little.”

The other boy rose up off the ground and approached the bed, crawling over the foot of the cot so he could lay down on the other side of Yoite nearest to the wall. Yoite wondered if Miharu thought he would feel trapped if he didn’t sleep on the side open to the room. He was grateful in any case, and smiled slightly to himself. He had the urge to turn around, so he could face him, especially when Miharu grabbed the blanket and pulled it over them both slowly.

He compromised by turning half way, so he lay on his back. Years of hypervigilance had given him excellent peripheral view, and was glad to be able to see Miharu at his side in the corner of his eye. It was comforting.

Miharu reached out and brushed a lock of hair out of Yoite’s eyes, making his face flush.

“You blush a lot.”

“Don’t say such cruel things…” Yoite said uneasily, glancing away.

“It’s not cruel. It’s cute.”

Miharu’s face was open and honest, lips forming the smallest of gentle smiles. Somehow the words coming from the younger boy didn’t hurt, not the way the did when coming from people who looked at him and only saw the most delicate parts of him.

He exhaled slowly, letting all the tension drain out of him. He could feel Miharu’s warmth at his side, could feel the steady rise and fall of his breath moving the blanket that covered them both, could smell the slight scent of shampoo in his hair. He hadn’t felt this comfortable in a long time, and slowly, his eyes slid shut and the world grew dark and silent.

“Let us have good dreams.” He lastly heard Miharu whisper as sleep finally came to him. 


	2. Two Hearts for One Dream

 

Miharu’s legs ached slightly with each long stretch of a stride, still recovering from yesterday’s overexertion. It was amazing how much strength cold and fear could rob you of, how quickly your energy got sucked away in the tidal pool of torrential rain.

It was bright and clear out now, sky a light pure blue dappled with small clouds having not been whisked away with last nights wind, as they walked through town on weary feet. It was still very early and they had to shield their eyes from the sun being so low in the sky.

Miharu could hear Yoite’s stomach gurgling, knowing the taller boy needed a lot of food to compensate for his constantly draining ki, that’d he soon grow weak if they didn’t eat soon.

“I think there’s a vendor over there.” Miharu pointed just down the road. He could smell sweet chocolate and custard smells wafting through the air. They’d hitchhiked to the edge of town and were just now approaching the main square, though the area was still pretty empty at such an early time of day.

Miharu instinctively grabbed onto Yoite’s coat, the happy medium between distance and touching, and pulled him towards the open faced food stand. They had a little bit of money left from what Yukimi had given them, much of Yoite’s having been used up on water and medical supplies, so Miharu paid for two taiyaki cakes and handed Yoite a chocolate one, knowing he enjoyed sweets despite his deadened tongue and taste buds.

They moved back to rest against a fence to eat. He took a large bite of his red bean paste treat and savoured the taste -- he’d forgotten how long it’d been since he’d last eaten. He noticed Yoite hold the fish shaped cake up to his face and sniff it, eyes unreadable. As he lowered it away from his face, Miharu knew he’d lost yet another sense to the terrible technique he’d been manipulated into bearing.

Miharu took another bite of his, still watching his friend. Yoite hadn’t eaten any yet, just staring down at the taiyaki with a stony expression.

“You have to eat, Yoite.” He stated quietly. He’d seen the boy shovel food into his mouth faster than anyone else, eating heaping plates of food without a single thought. His body needed more nutrients than most, and he could afford to grow weak.

Yoite took a tentative bite, chewing slowly as if he could force himself to experience the food if he just tried really really hard, in any other way than just feeling it in his mouth. Miharu tried to imagine what it was like, to not be able to taste or smell.

After a few moments, Yoite forced another bite then shook his head, looking pleadingly over at Miharu as though he could make everything better.

“C’mon.”

He grasped the fabric of Yoite’s sleeve again, pulling him away from the fence. He’d seen something on their way to the main square that sparked a delightful idea in his mind.

Some part of him knew they should be hurrying, that danger was still nipping at their heels and they had very little time left -- but simply _because_ they had so little time left, these quiet, precious moments with Yoite meant that much more to him. Finding happiness in the time they had was more important than running for their lives.

The duck pond was small, but meant all the ducks quickly flocked to where the two boys stood over the bridge. Miharu grabbed the tail off Yoite’s taiyaki and crumbled it, throwing the bits at the waiting waterfowl.

A small smile spread on Yoite’s face, like a crack opening up from marble rock, yet opened up by Bernini in the softest, gentlest, most beautiful way.

“It’ll be ok, Yoite.” Miharu grinned, as Yoite tossed down some crumbs.

His friend glanced at him, smile hesitating, before nodding.

Miharu remembered last night, above the cold and the ache, he remember Yoite curled in that bed looking so small despite his gangly limbs, hand cupping his neck where that mysterious scar lay bright and raw looking in the dim lights of the room. Hiding, protecting himself from the only person in the room left to fear -- Miharu never wanted Yoite to hide from him.

“Are you scared of me?” He asked quietly, watching the ducks fight over the sugary snacks flung their way.

Yoite looked surprised, blinking. There was no answer for a long time, and Miharu almost didn’t expect one. The two of them didn’t talk much, they’re time together was spent without connecting much physically or verbally and it was so difficult to breach those walls. No one had effected Miharu like Yoite did, he’d noticed it from the first moment their eyes met on that bloody battlefield of the Fūma village. Even when they were enemies, those eyes were at the end of the red string that Miharu had always thought to have been severed by his indifference and apathy. As they grew closer, the red string grew shorter.

“No.” Yoite stated, “That would be a hinderance to everything we’re trying to achieve.”

Such a clinical answer.

“Well, I’m not scared of you.” Miharu sighed, “Let’s go, I’m thirsty.”

Yoite didn’t follow at first, but he noticed him shove the last piece of his taiyaki in his mouth.

The town was becoming more populated now, as people started to bustle about their daily business. Businessmen walked briskly to some destination or another, mother’s toted their young children with hurried paces, couples sauntered hand in hand basking in the sunlight. Miharu noticed two young people kissing gently nearby the park, smiles lighting their soft faces as they parted.

A startled cough made Miharu twist to glance behind him, reaching out to grasp at Yoite’s unoccupied hand, the taller boy’s other clasped over his mouth. Another cough wracked his body, a splatter of blood staining his glove.

They were a parody of a couple, hand in bloodied hand.

Miharu led him to a nearby public washroom, as his coughing grew stronger and he made motions to throw up, holding the blood and vomit in his mouth with desperate eyes.

The kira technique loved to make itself known. Instead of being an invisible haunting in the back of the mind like Oda’s Izuna Shingan, robbing it’s user of other ninjutsu, Kira liked to scream at everyone around it ‘ _Look at me! Look at what I’m doing to my host, look at his ashen, crippled body, look at the blood staining his lips. Look at me! Look at me!’_

Miharu slowly rubbed Yoite’s back, while he hunched over and splattered blood over the dirty bathroom wall, gagging on his body’s own fluid.

“You’re ok.” He whispered, “It’ll be over soon.”

He didn’t know if he meant the gagging, the pain, the life -- he didn’t want to think about it too much. He hoped Yoite wasn’t thinking about it either, he regretted saying it.

Finally the shudders lessened and Yoite straightened, exhaling slowly, wiping his mouth. His eyes were unreadable under his hat pulled low over his face, and he avoiding looking at Miharu as he headed for the exit.

“Let’s go to the park.” Miharu suggested, “You can sit awhile, while I get us some drinks.”

He thought about the couple’s embrace, and his heart thudded something painful and slow. A parody, a mockery, a futile thought -- that the two of them could be like everyone else who felt like they did. If they were normal people, if they were a boy and a girl, if they weren’t on the run for their lives, if Yoite wasn’t dying -- then these feelings they had--

The young couple at the park was gone by the time they reached the top of the stairs, somewhere along the way Miharu’s hand found Yoite’s and he was glad they weren’t there to remind him of how pathetic it was to clutch onto someone he couldn’t have.

If they were normal, Miharu could tell Yoite ‘I love you’, he could embrace him fully and without thought about how little time he had left to hold him this way, he could kiss him.

He’d never kissed someone before. There’d never been someone he wanted to kiss, not the way that adults kiss, with meaning and intention and lips that moved and pressed tight and full. The thought scared him, because he had taken solace in the fact he was so young and it was ok that he hadn’t kissed anyone like that yet -- but now that there was someone he wanted to taste, that someone couldn’t taste him back. They only had their youth, because Yoite would have nothing more than youth. They didn’t have time.

Yoite sat heavily down on a nearby bench, chest heaving slightly at the effort of walking, and Miharu planted a tiny, chaste kiss on his cheek without giving it a second thought. It wasn’t an adult kiss, it was small and innocent. For the moment it was enough.

With bright sky blue eyes, Yoite looked up at him with parted lips, confused.

“I’m going to get us some drinks. Kokoa?” Miharu asked, “It’ll be nice on your throat, I think.”

He knew Yoite was watching him as he departed, and he was glad. He wanted Yoite’s eyes to follow him. Kira might be screaming ‘ _look at me!_ ’, but Yoite was looking at _him._

The breeze was fresh and carried the scent of clean wet dirt, petrichor, ghosts of rain still in the air despite the bright beautiful day. He basked in the light and the cleanness of it all, it was purifying.

_‘You have no need to grant Yoite’s desire. Don’t you think the erasing of a person is meaningless?’ Hattori murmures, voice so wise but eyes so deadly cold. Those eyes have seen Yoite, have seen the boy for much longer than Miharu has, they’ve seen his pain and his beginning and oversaw him take the first step onto the road to the end. Miharu shudders._

_‘It’s pointless to erase a being’s existence. Give up.’_

_The burning inside was eating him, consuming him. He wondered if that awful, raw, ugly fire burned hotter -- whether it was stronger than the ice in Hattori’s eyes._

He purchased the drinks quickly, gut clenching around things he didn’t want inside him anymore.

The hot chocolate was warm in his hands, steam rising up from the paper cups. He felt alone without Yoite at his side, reminiscent of that lonely bath at that kind stranger’s home. He was eager to return to his friend, walking quickly, careful not to spill the drinks. He didn’t want to think of Hattori or the Kairōshū, he only wanted to be back at Yoite’s side.

It was strange to think of how familiar being ‘two people’ had become, after so many years of isolating himself from the world. He was no longer the most comfortable as a solitary being, having grown accustomed to having that frail yet somehow strong presence by him near constantly.

An older woman with a small dog had taken up residence on the other side of the bench that Yoite sat on, leaning over obviously attempting to rouse conversation out of the clearly uncomfortable boy. Yoite’s body language was guarded, hat pulled down over his eyes.

“--and such a beautiful day out, too! We’re so lucky, after such a storm--”

The lady meant no harm in her friendliness, but Miharu pointedly sat himself between the two without a word, forcing Yoite to inch slightly over to give him room.

“Oh! Hello.” The lady blinked at him, mouth open in surprise.

“Hi.”

The dog barked at him with excitement, tail wagging with quick whips from side to side. Miharu handed one of the hot chocolates to Yoite, watching him careful to see that his hands weren’t shaking, and with his free hand reached down to pet the enthusiastic animal.

“He’s really quite friendly, he loves people.” The lady smiled, getting over her shock at Miharu’s sudden intrusion.

The dog’s tongue lolled out of his mouth, bumping his head up against Miharu’s hand.

Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Yoite drinking slowly from the steaming cup. He worried that the drink would burn the boy’s deadened, insensitive mouth without him realizing, and took a tentative sip of his own to test the temperature.

“Yoite it’s too hot.” He murmured, “Wait a moment.”

Yoite glanced at him, his hand rose to his own lips, frowning.

Miharu smiled reassuringly to him, leaning his shoulder in to create a comfortable bridge of contact between them. ‘ _I’ll be your ears, I’ll be your eyes, I’ll be your lips--’_ He didn’t want to _be_ Yoite’s lips, he wanted to _have_ them, touch them, kiss them. Ease the burning, make them feel, force sensation into his dying flesh.

“You two are very sweet together. Are you brothers?” The older woman said kindly, “Honestly, despite your heights, I can’t tell which of you is the older or the younger!”

A flash of something painful crossed Yoite’s face, something dark and old, a memory, a flicker of a past, before it disappeared under his hat and hair as he ducked his head.

“We’re actually about the same age, I think.” Miharu remembered Yukimi’s words on their way to the Kōga village, their student masquerades in place, “But we’re not brothers.”

“Oh, we’ll you’re very sweet with him. You must be very good friends.” There was something about the way she said ‘very good friends’ that wasn’t patronizing or oblivious, nor assumptious or sarcastic. It was the way an outsider could speak of a married couple, war buddies, dying lovers, police partners, childhood friends, high school sweethearts… it was kind and knowing and was met with a smile from Miharu.

“Thank you.”

 

* * *

 

More limber and energized, Miharu leapt from rock to rock along the edge of the stream running along the road out of town. Yoite walked calmly a few feet away, watching with a small smile as his shorter friend playfully jumped.

As Miharu finally climbed back up onto the road, they noticed a farm truck driving up towards them.

Making eye contact, they silently and unanimously agreed to try to flag it down, waving their arms until it slowly pulled over as it neared.

In the cab was a man and an older woman, who waved them over, “Looking for a lift?”

Miharu nodded, gazing up at her expectantly.

“Sorry, unfortunately we only have two seats. You can climb in the back though, where you headed?”

“The train station.”

“We’re going in that direction. Hop in.”

Miharu climbed up first with Yoite’s help to boost him, navigating through crates and totes of apples and potatoes. He then reached down and pulled Yoite up after him, the boy’s long limbs awkwardly climbing over the edge of the pickup’s trailer.

As the truck pulled back onto the road, the older lady poked her head out the window and smiled to them, “We come from the city to the fields on the weekends to do farm work.” She noticed Miharu pick up an apple and study it, “They’re totally organic, have as many as you want!”

Miharu nodded and took a small nibble, while Yoite grabbed one and took a huge bite, chewing almost half the apple stuffed in his mouth.

He was glad to see his friend eating properly. The feeling was cut short by a large bump of the unpaved road which momentarily sent them both and some produce flying, both startled and shaken.

Giving a nervous laugh, Miharu began putting some of the potatoes back in their bins, cringing at another bump that sent him jostling against Yoite.

“I lied to you.”

Miharu froze, turning to look over at his quiet friend. Yoite’s face was unreadable, almost cold. He continued speaking, “There aren’t any fragments in those three from Banten. The… kira user can leave shards of their energy in their opponents, but…”

“Yoite?”

“I didn’t leave any in them.” Yoite took a shuddering breath, “If I suddenly died, they would die as well.”

“Yoite.” Miharu repeated, heart thudding in his chest.

“I thought that their deaths would leave you a memory of ‘Yoite’.”  

“Yoite.”

“So it’s a lie.”

‘ _Why now.’_ Miharu unconsciously began to reach for him, “Why do you say that now… why…” ‘ _Why, a kind thing like that.’_ “I might have been able to use the Shinrabansho by now.”

“What?” Yoite frowned.

“The fairy said that the only reason I can’t use it is because I’m confused.” He felt like crying, sobbing, breaking down into little pieces, “I’m lost. I promised you, but I’m still lost. I don’t know what to do!”

Yoite slowly took of his hat, body huddling to the far side of the cargo bed, just out of his reach, “I’m the one that’s putting you through all this pain. I threatened you and got you into this mess… Miharu, you were supposed to be protected by Banten.”

Everything was coming up, pushing out of Miharu like a natural disaster, unavoidable, unstoppable, “It’s not your fault. It’s my own will. I- I wanted to know more about you, but knowing won’t change a thing, because you’re you and I- I…” He swallowed, “I’ve wished that we could stay like this and never get to Banten.” Stay like this, together, peaceful, calm, helping each other and looking after each other. Together.

“What are you saying? I can’t live for much longer, and--” Yoite looked confused and distressed, nearly yelling.

“I know, I know, but because you say these kind things now…”

“Miharu stop saying things that confuse me…” His voice was deathly soft and quiet now, desperate.

“But Yoite, I want you to live--”

‘ _I want you to live.’_

 

* * *

 

They were headed towards Banten.

The train sped along the rails through the night, sun now set low beyond the horizon. The day had gone by so fast, the one day Miharu felt truly belonged to the two of them. Now it was almost gone, sped away as fast as the train hurtling towards their destination.

There just wasn’t enough time.

Yoite was staring down at his ticket stub, eyes glazed, “Sounds are getting muffled, and it feels like I’m in the dark.” He blinked up at the bright overhead lights above their seats, then turned to face Miharu, “Even you look blurry but I wonder why…”

The pause extended, and Miharu blinked at him, watching Yoite study him like a puzzle.

“I wonder why your presence next to me is stronger now than when I had my full senses.”  

A soft blush creeped across Miharu’s face, warm as Yoite’s body next to him.

Together, the two of them.

“It’s like we’re in a dream.”

  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  



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